


Fever Change

by ritsuko



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Animal Transformation, Animalistic, Biting, Bleeding, Bottom Steve Rogers, Breeding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Doggy Style, Dominance, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fucking, Full Shift Werewolves, HYDRA Trash Party, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scratching, Shieldbones, Submission, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brock Rumlow has orders to keep a close eye on Steve Rogers. The wolf in him wants more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VicStone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VicStone/gifts).



> (If you have issues with werewolf sex, FFS, turn back now.)

Brock Rumlow is a man of many talents, of which all HYDRA is desperately in need of. The man can lead, the man can fight, and the man can fuck. But perhaps most importantly is the power in his genes. 

But then, there's not too many werewolves running about. At least, not enough that anyone knows about. It isn't easy to find an alpha willing to work for humans. But Brock is a creature of order, his whole life based around it, and nothing is more structured than HYDRA. Even being an alpha in his own right, he's a wolf without a pack, and he'll give anything for some semblance of order.

He's happy being in control, that the only orders he has to submit to are Pierce's. Not that he doesn't long for a day that he can rip the smug bastard's throat out.

So when the orders come to keep an eye on Steve Rogers, he's more than happy to oblige. He's worked with the man over the last few months since he's been off the ice, sparred with him every so often until the musky sweet tang of his scent drives him nearly mad with desire. The blonde seems like the kind of guy that, stodgy persona aside, might enjoy taking a cock or two. Maybe he even has in the past. Brock has to admit, those pretty plush lips would look good wrapped around his dick.

Really, it's no big deal to follow him around. Not when the other man is so deliciously oblivious to his interest.

Steve's daily routine is incredibly dull; a post shift workout, going to the grocery store for food. Cooking up a plain dinner while watching TV. Looking distracted. 

Looking miserable. 

He brushes his teeth and gargles and spits and does everything like the perfect little super soldier that SHIELD wants him to be. He's just as namby-pamby as the vintage fucking comic books make him out to be. When he tucks himself into bed, in boring white boxers, he doesn't try to rub one out. Brock doesn't even understand how someone can live like that.

It's then that Brock knows that he needs to fuck Steve Rogers.

The thought has crossed his mind before, hard not to with that sweet scent of vanilla and raw musk that rolls off of him, but the sad state of the blonde's love life is fucking depressing. 

Plus, he'll get to dominate Captain America.

He doesn't make his move immediately; he knows about the SHIELD agent keeping watch down the hall. Instead he waits. Rogers will move at some point, away from his bugged apartment and everything SHIELD that's keeping him guarded.

After three days, Steve Rogers' after work routine is memorized, and Brock knows exactly when to strike.

It's still dark out, but just by scent the wolf can tell that Rogers is about to be finished with his morning jog. He's been in this form for hours, shadowing the other man easily with all the stealth and deftness that the wolf gives him. Even with his hulking form, the wolf's coat is pitch black, even if there are a couple of silvery strands of fur here and there. His ears pitch forward, the sound of Rogers' breath hitting the air in a sharp staccato that indicates just how hard he has been running.

It's a perfect chance, when the other man is winded. Normally, he would revel in the challenge of a fight. He and Rogers have sparred before, and it's always been a rush, the way the super soldier could so easily outmatch him, but how easily he could be pinned. Brock knows that every once and awhile, the bulge of his arousal was probably evident to the other man. During those moments, it was all too hard to get the sweet, pure smell of Rogers' sweat off of his mind. That was a scent he wanted to roll in, claim.

Wreck. The wolf licks his lips, lets his tongue loll out in anticipation.

It's not hard to get the drop on Rogers. He's oblivious he's being stalked as he jogs along, little tufts of hot air puffing from his lips into the cold morning. The wolf strikes as Steve's rounding a turn next to the bushes, making use of his claws to snag the other man by his too tight Under Armor shorts. The blonde yelps as he is dragged into the bushes, flailing for some purchase, but by the time he turns his eyes widen in shock and confusion.

The wolf's claws jerk, and Rogers' goes crashing to the ground, head connecting with one of the large stones decorating the side of the pathway. Steve gasps, body going limp, and for a moment the wolf worries that maybe he's given the super soldier brain damage.

But he's read the files, knows that the blonde can bounce back from just about anything.

Besides, HYDRA would probably reward him for doing away with their main adversary. Or better yet, recondition him to be another brainless asset.

Once they are concealed well enough, the wolf takes in his prize, lying on his stomach on the hard ground. The blonde's breath is stilted, and he can see just how dazed those blue eyes are. They're just beginning to try and focus on him, and the look is full of confusion. Most likely, he's never seen a werewolf before, the way the cogs are practically turning in his brain. The look Rogers is giving him is like he thinks he's some kind of large dog. A really, really large dog. As if a large dog would be running around the Metro DC area. So fucking oblivious.

He can already feel his cock starting to slip from its sheath, wet and throbbing with need.

The blonde struggles to move, trying to push off from his hands and knees to get up, but Brock nips him hard enough on the hip that he pauses. Blue eyes glance cautiously over a well muscled shoulder. The wolf stares back, knowing that his eyes are glimmering gold in the pre-dawn darkness.

Steve relaxes, a small smile at the corner of his lips, unsure but tentatively hopeful, like maybe the 'dog' just wants attention. "Hey, whoah there, buddy. Are you lost? You looking for your home?"

_More like looking for a good time._ Brock thinks, sniffing the air. Steve's sweat soaked clothes have the tang of arousal on them, something that the other man is most likely going to do away with in a cold shower. The wolf's not going to allow that to happen. He knows Rogers is already recovering from the run, as well as the blow to his head. He has to strike now, or all will be lost. Brock slams forward, the entirety of his weight on top of the other man as Rogers tries to scramble for purchase. Steve squawks underneath him, a shocked, indignant little sound, and Brock wonders how long Rogers has been complacent in knowing that there is no real match for him in the world. The wolf is ready to prove him wrong about that. His claws shred through the tight fabric hugging the super soldier's back, cutting through the skin underneath, and the blonde underneath him shudders. Soon, his back is a train of claw marks through synthetic fabric. The wolf's paws reach the elastic band of Steve's shorts and jerk down, an audible rip exposing milky cheeks and the pink bud of his pucker. Rumlow nearly drools, claw sinking into the super soldiers hips as he lines himself up.

He's fucked plenty of people in this form, to the point it's almost like an aphrodisiac, having that kind of power over over someone else. Sometimes, it had been consenting, if a little leery. But those that weren't, those were the sweetest of all. . . those whose bodies tried to reject what was happening until they finally gave in, pounded into the ground like good little bitches. 

"Hey, stop it!" Finally, what's happening starts to register, and the blonde's strength comes into play, trying to grab at him and rip him from his back, but the wolf's claws have sunk in deep enough that they are embedded in the hard muscle of his sides.

Even afraid, he can smell more obvious arousal wafting off of the other man. So Steve Rogers has a dirty side. The wolf growls and rubs up against the blonde's crack, earning a shocked cry that is far too heated to be only terrified.

His cock brushes against that puckered hole, and he can feel the other man tensing to fight him off. He'll be no match for Rogers if the other man regains his composure. There's no time to lose. The wolf slams his length into the other man, tapered cock slowly pushing into the tight ring of muscle. Steve makes a strangled sound under him, but his body goes slack, more compliant than Brock would have ever thought. 

Maybe he's in shock.

Or maybe the guy's used to fucked up things happening to him. Brock has read about all sorts of fucked up shit that Nazis had done during the war. Dossiers on HYDRA and the Winter Soldier project. Things he probably would have rather not read.

But none of that matters right now, not with Captain America on hands and knees underneath him as his cock slips further and further into the heat of his ass. A hiss of pain slips past the other man's lips, and for a moment the wolf almost reconsiders claiming his prey.

Almost.

He sinks further and further in, and the other man starts to tremble violently.

"Please." He mutters, and Brock's ears perk up. _Please what? Stop? Fuck me? Make me your bitch?_ The wolf wonders, although he can't begin to think that the man would willingly want to get fucked by an animal. He pauses slightly, and after a moment is rewarded by trembling flanks and that sweet hole clenching all around him, as if begging for more. The wolf can't help but chuckle, more like a stilted growl slipping past his fangs. Slowly, he ruts into that tight heat, feeling a tremor go through the other man's body. Brock arches his hips, stroking against the sweet spot within the other man, and the noise that Rogers makes is orgasmic. 

Yeah, the super soldier likes getting fucked by an animal.

His cock bottoms out, his knot pressed tightly against the stretched rim of the super soldier's hole, and the wolf pushes forward experimentally. It would be risky to be knotted to the other man once he's regained his strength, but at the same time, the wolf wants everything. Teasingly, he pushes forward only to hear Rogers suck in a huge gasp of air. He knows that the other man can take it. 

_You like that, don't you?_ He growls, and Steve whimpers in response, the knot slipping past his rim in one solid thrust. Once he is sheathed fully inside him, the blonde shudders. Rumlow only wishes he could see the look on Rogers' face. Is it scrunched up in pain, or is his tongue hanging out like a needy little whore? Experimentally, he grinds his knot in harder, and the note that erupts from Steve's throat is pure pleasure. Rumlow chuckles, finally allowing himself to speak. "That's a good little bitch. Hungry for it. Bet you've been dying to get fucked."

The man stiffens underneath him, registering the noise. The wolf's voice is gravelly, almost not audible as words, but he knows the blonde understands him. But Steve makes a small noise of dissent, and the wolf digs his claws deeper into his hips, earning him a high pitched squeal. There's pain there, but something more. He rocks deeper, the knot tugging along Steve's insides, and a high pitched whine emanates from the other man's throat. 

It sounds so good, like a bitch begging to be bred.

Brock can't help himself; his teeth are sinking into the blonde's shoulder before he knows it, the sweet metallic tang of blood thick on his tongue. Greedily, he laps at it, as Steve convulses underneath him, crying out as the inevitable scent of musk and come fills the air. Brock feels triumphant as Rogers' ass grinds against him as he starts to pound into him, reedy little sighs filling the air. Letting go, he lathes his tongue across the seeping intentions in the other man's skin. Rogers' blood is sweet, Brock wants to shred the other man apart, make him submit over and over until the blonde begs for his cock. It's a pretty picture he paints in his head, Steve, covered in claw marks and bites, on his back with eyes half lidded, whimpering to be bred. The fantasy makes him increase tempo.

Steve starts to tremble underneath him, moans reaching a cadence that makes Brock worry for a moment that they might be found out, but then, what trouble would he be in? He's sure the tabloids will read that Captain America likes fucking dogs. With as much of a grin as his lupine mouth can make, he slams relentlessly into the other man's heat, delighting in how the blonde convulses around his knot. 

He can smell the musky salt tang of come as it splatters against the grass. Rogers must be biting his lips, a muffled moan threatening to escape as his insides grip the wolf's cock like a fine fitting glove. Brock howls as he slams in one final time, coating Captain America's insides with his seed. 

There's no small amount of satisfaction in knowing that he's made Captain America his bitch.

Brock sinks his fangs in again, but Steve doesn't scream, just shudders and groans, forearms giving out as his front collapses on the ground, ass in the air still locked to the wolf.

The sun starts peeking over the horizon, a muddled shade of purples and pinks. The lights starts to illuminate the body underneath him, colors dancing over the already healing marks along his back. The wolf laps at them idly, relishing his scent mingling with the blonde's taste.

His.

Several minutes pass, and Steve's breath starts to even out, relaxing enough that the wolf's swollen knot has enough give to slip out with only a little resistance.

So thoroughly blissed out.

One hazy blue eye meets his own, and he's slightly amazed that the other man finds his voice. "Please. . . please. . ." Steve licks his lips, voice full of need. His hole twitches around the wolf and he realizes that the other man is already hard again.

Brock is shocked for a moment. Steve Rogers didn't just enjoy getting fucked by a werewolf. He loved it.

He pulls out, eliciting a whimper from the other man, and sniffs along Steve's wrecked hole, that smells totally, enticingly of him. The wolf swipes his tongue across that cum streaked hole, growling in satisfaction at the strangled noise that the blonde makes. So beaten down, so used.

His ears pick up the sound of joggers making their way closer, and despite the bushes, knows it's best not to get caught. One more lick along the crease of Steve's ass and he's gone, darting through the underbrush.

Even so, he hears the other man whine, disappointment laced with pleasure. Filthy and wrecked. Steve Rogers, begging for him as he makes his escape.

Brock fuckin' loves his job.

**Author's Note:**

> [TUMBLR](http://ritsuko-chan.tumblr.com)


End file.
